Hetalia Detective Agency, Please Hold
by Ariaprincess
Summary: The very successful street gang led by Luciano Vargas is finally coming into its own. But what happens when they are threatened by an outside force, the Hetalia Detective Agency? Luciano is not happy when the 'Useless idiots' turn out to be capable of shutting his gang down. Rated teen for action scenes and mild course language (CoughRomanoCough). [OLD FIC- DO NOT READ]
1. Chapter 1

"Get on the ground and put your hands up, you dirty pig!"

Tai felt pressure on his back, forcing him toward the ground. He pulled his hands over his head, the actual appendages swamped in his oversized sleeves. Quivering, he stuttered, "I don't know anything, I swear!" There was a chuckle, and a sneering face bent down to look at him.

"Oh, but you do." The figure pushed his aviator glasses up and grinned.

"You still owe Luci some money, don't you? The boss don't like having his debts go unpaid." Tai's blood went cold at the mention of the nickname. Luci was a feared name around these parts.

 _How could he still possibly remember that? It was five years ago!_

The figure spat, and held out the palm of his hand.

"Fifty, up front."

Tai whimpered, and dug around in his pockets for any spare change.

"I only have twenty on me, but I'll get the rest to you as soon as possible!" There was mocking laughter, then;

"That's what you said last time, wasn't it, _Tai Yang Chung?"_

Tai winced. He didn't like having his full name used with strangers.

"Can I give the money to Wang? He'll get it to you!" More laughter.

"Nup, pal, that's not how it works around here." He felt more pressure on his back, and he was sure he heard something crack.

"How about we meet him at his house tomorrow, and he can give us the money then? No escape, that way." A female voice remarked.

" _Good idea."_ The redhead stood up, then kicked him in the face, leaving a black eye.

"That's from Luci, with love." He stretched his back, and picked a large heavy object up from where it lay on the floor.

"We'll see you tomorrow. With the money."

They left Tai quivering on the floor, arms still above his head, black eye slowly swelling.

...

"So, you didn't get the money?" Luciano leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.

"Nope, the dirty ***** only had twenty on him." Allen handed the crumpled bills to Luciano, who placed them in his pocket.

"Get the rest by tomorrow. Or we'll have to send in Flavio." The Italian grimaced at the mention of his _fratello._

"Yes, sir."

"One more thing." Luciano stood up and walked slowly over to Allen, his boots making heavy thuds on the cement floor.

"I notice the streets now recognize me under my little _pet_ name of 'Luci'?" Allen swallowed.

"Y-yeah. I didn't start that up." Luciano pushed him towards the wall with his shoulder, knife to throat.

"If you hear somebody calling me that name, strike them down." He turned and walked back to his desk, twirling the knife in his fingertips.

"B-but-"

"Orders from the top."

Allen sighed, and turned to leave, when Luciano commented,

"Nice haircut, by the way."

Allen felt the back of his head. There was significantly less hair there than earlier. Apparently, Luciano had decided to give him a little warning mark. He was...nice...that way. Gritting his teeth, Allen left the office.

...

"Dude, where were you?"

The lounge was almost empty, with only three people there. Wang was relaxing on a tattered couch, playing with a meat cleaver, Erika was sharpening one of her small knives, and Francois was filling up his coffee cup. Wang grinned sheepishly.

"I had to take care of something. I didn't mean to skip out."

"Did you get permission from the boss?"

"Uh, no."

Erika wagged her finger. "He's not gonna be happy. You know Luciano hates things like that."

"I can explain!" Wang hooked his knife back onto his belt.

"What _were_ you doing, anyway?" Wang slipped a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Gathering information about _these."_ He handed the picture to Allen, who grimaced.

"Who are they?"

"Some idiots from a different district. Luciano wanted me to research them."

"Let me see." Francois had taken an interest in the conversation. Snatching the paper, he looked it up and down.

"They look like idiots."

"Yeah, it kind of mystifies me why they are important to the boss." Wang stuffed the photos back in his pocket and grinned. Just then, Flavio stuck his head in the doorway.

"Wang? _Mi Fratello_ wants to see you~!"

...

"I trust you've gathered enough information for us to set up a meeting?"

" _Shì._ So far, they seem innocent enough. Though, one member of the team seems a little...off..."

"'Deadly' off?"

"No...more like, 'Why is he working in a detective agency he should be working in a preschool' off."

Luciano chuckled. "Well, one more idiot that'll be an easy target. Good job, Wang."

"Thank you, boss."

...

"You've gotta be f**king kidding me!" Lovino angrily tore down the paper on the wall and angrily speedwalked as fast as possible to Arthur's office.

"What's with these new team assignments? Me, Antonio and Francis had a perfectly good team set up, thank you very much!"

Arthur stirred his tea calmly, not looking up at the angry italian. "Orders from Ivan. He picked them himself. If you like, I can bring up the issue with him the next time we meet."

"You do that! Damn that vodka bastard."

"What was that?" Lovino felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and turned to see a smiling, six foot tall man behind him.

"I hope you weren't insulting me. That wouldn't be very nice, would it, Meester Lovi?" His smile grew icier, and Lovino trembled.

"N-no, sir."

"Good!" Ivan thumped him on the back and pushed past him to talk to Arthur.

"There is a mysterious group wanting to make the plans to meet with us." His heavy russian accent made the news sound even more intimidating, more than it should have.

"Can you give me their contact information?"

"Da. The note is from somebody named 'Kuro Honda.'" Arthur finally looked up.

"Honda? Isn't that the last name of the chap that works with Feliciano and Ludwig?"

"Da, it is. I was wondering if that would be his brother or something like that."

"I'll have to check. When do they request our presence?"

"Three days from today. The old abandoned warehouse, on the other side of the district. They say bring three people other than myself and you."

"Alright. How about Vash, Ludwig, and...um..."

"Alfred?"

"Right. They'll make a good team."

"If comrade Alfred can keep his mouth shut." Arthur sighed.

"Look, if you feel that way about him, get rid of him. But we can't let personal feelings get in the way of our job. Alfred is one of our best when it comes to infiltration."

"Da, I see your point." Ivan sighed. "I guess I will not be firing comrade Alfred this week."

"Glad to hear it." Ivan's smile returned.

"I will gather the people needed. Except Alfred."

"Okay." Arthur went back to his paperwork.

...

Luciano smiled as he witnessed the useless one, the silent one, and the angry one attempt to catch a petty robber. The angry one shouted something at the useless one, who yelped and circled back the other way, bumping into a wall, a telephone pole, and the silent one in the process. The angry one turned his back to yell at the useless one, and the useless one started to wail, while the robber just stood and watched. While this whole spectacle was going on, the silent one snuck up behind the robber, drew a katana, and knocked him out cold with the butt of the handle. The angry one saw the unconscious robber, and congratulated the silent one, who nodded.

 _If this is how they solved all their cases, they would be even easier to negotiate with then I_

 _thought._

He pressed the intercom button on his desk and said, with an air of somebody who has just won a poker game or some other game of skill,

"Bring me a cup of coffee, Bernard."

"On it, boss."

Luciano smiled, and looked out the window again. The useless one had managed to wake up the robber with his loud, obnoxious voice, and the angry one was hitting the useless one on the head, and the silent one was just hitting the robber over and over with his katana.

"Here you go."

Bernard slowly opened the door, holding a steaming mug. He went over to the window and looked at the idiots below, smiling.

"They're like little ants, aren't they?" Luciano remarked, taking the hot cup.

"Ja, I know. They are small, idiotic, and easy to squash." The secretary's smile grew wider as he placed one palm on the window.

"I enjoy thinking about how we are going to pound them into dust, later."

"Go away, Bernard. You're creeping me out."

"Yes, sir." Bernard turned to leave, but before he could make it out the door, Luciano grabbed his arm.

"I agree with you, wholeheartedly. Now leave."

"But of course." Bernard left, the smile never leaving his face.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, why are we meeting with these people anyway?"

"To negotiate a peace treaty. Did you bring weapons?"

"You know I never leave the _house_ without a gun."

"True." Arthur turned to the front seat, where Ivan was driving. Despite yelling Russian obscenities at some of the more idiotic drivers, he was actually pretty good. Not like Feliciano, anyway.

"How many did you bring?" Vash smirked.

"Two .32s, a Glock 19, and two revolvers in my back pockets. Oh, and my sniper rifle. Never leave home without it."

"Good. Are one of the guns for Ivan?"

"Ivan doesn't need a gun."

"Da."

"I think the authorities will get a bit frazzled if somebody is murdered 'accidentally' using a pipe."

"Good point. Pass me the Glock, please." Vash pulled the small handgun from his pocket and handed it to the Russian, who pocketed it.

"We have arrived at our destination. Vash, please give everybody a gun."

Vash handed Ludwig and Alfred the .32s, gave Arthur both of the revolvers (he worked better with two), and fingered his rifle.

"Be polite, everybody. This is a mafia of sorts. They will remember any offense we commit."

"Does hitting them in head count as an offence?"

"Yes, Ivan."

"I am your boss and I say it isn't."

"The law says it is."

"I cannot argue with the law." Russia sighed. "I cannot even hit strangers in the face, let alone Alfred."

"Hey, dude! Uncalled for."

"What did you say?"

"Bite me, commie bastard!"

"I am your boss. Just because I am from Russia doesn't mean I am a Communist."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let us go now."

The fivesome walked into the abandoned storage building and were swallowed up by the gloom.

...

"So, is this where their base of operations is set up?"

"You must be even stupider than I thought, to jump to that conclusion."

A suave, smooth voice called out from the shadows. It was icy cold and laced with barbed wire, but what did you expect from a mysterious note writer? But this accent sounded...Italian.

"Kuro Honda?"

"No, no. I am Luciano Vargas." The overhead lights flickered on, catching the five by surprise.

The man they saw before them wore an easy smile, but his eyes were cold. His hair was auburn, and his skin was pleasantly tanned. He was sitting at a low table, his legs crossed on top of it, and he was cleaning his fingernails with his knife. Alfred let out a low gasp.

" _The_ Luciano Vargas?"

" _Sì._ I am so glad you've heard of me." He gestured to the four people behind him. A large, stocky japanese, a black haired girl wearing combat boots and hefting a sniper, a rather large redhead wearing a black button-up jacket, and a strawberry blond with rather strange eyes.

"These are my comrades. Kuro, Erika, Viktor, and Oliver." The japanese smiled, a pitying, " _I-feel-so-sorry-for-you-LOL-not-really-I-hate-your-face_." The emo girl just nodded. The redhead did nothing, while the blond did a small finger wave and giggled.

"We are-"

"We know who you are." Luciano dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "The large smiley one is Ivan Braginski, the manager of this whole operation and an all around creepy bastard. You are Arthur Kirkland, second in command and a rather full of himself windbag." Arthur sputtered a hasty retort, and Alfred grinned, but then Luciano remarked, "The loud one over there is Alfred F. Jones, F standing for F**cking, freedom, or _fat."_ Alfred stopped laughing immediately and started pouting. "The angry one on the left is Ludwig Beilschmidt, he's always yelling at poor useless Feliciano, while he can't do any better himself. And, finally, the other blonde one is Vash Zwingli, who is gun obsessed and is too blind to the fact that he is so affectionate towards his sister that people are starting to put them together in romantic pairings." Luciano leaned back in his chair and grinned.

"I got them all right, _sì?"_

He certainly left an impression. Every single Hetalia Detective agency member besides Ivan was shocked at how much this man they had never met in their lives knew about them.

"Why did you call us here?" Luciano smiled, and beckoned Kuro closer. He obliged, his smile disappearing.

"We want to make a deal with you." Luciano leaned forward, suddenly cold and cunning. Well, more than usual.

"You are one of the most feared and respected spy networks in this country. We want you to stay out of our way. In return, we won't kill you or take any of your people hostage."

"And why should we listen to you?" Arthur growled. Luciano chuckled slowly.

"We have connections, Arthur dear." The blond in the back piped up. "All over this city. We can make your life absolute heck."

"You mean hell." The man grimaced and wagged his finger.

"None of that potty mouth here."

"Oliver, give it a rest. These people are new to this game." Arthur's face was glowing a cherry red by now. The small emo girl noticed his steadily reddening hue and laughed.

" _Somebody_ doesn't like how we hold all the cards, does he?"

 **Hello! I hope you like the story so far! R and R please, it makes me want to write moar :3**


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur was royally pissed. This man was frinking him off, with his nonchalant attitude and untrue facts. Full of himself windbag, indeed. He was so much better than that.

"So, we leave you alone, to commit any crimes you want, and in return, you won't kill any of our people or capture any of our workers?" Luciano's grin grew wider as he replied with a non-committal, " _Sí."_

Ivan thought over the deal, the well oiled cogs in his brain turning. Finally, after much thought, he replied, "No."

Luciano looked stunned. "No? You turn down our generous offer?"

"Da."

"And risk having our Mafia at your throats whenever you step out into the street?"

"Da."

"We could kill every single one of you right now if we wished."

"Da." Ivan smiled at the man, an evil purple aura seeming to surround him.

"We have to have the right to arrest you for your crimes, otherwise how will we do our job?"

Luciano's face reddened.

"Very well." He spat. "Get out of here before Erika decides to strike you down. From this day forth, whenever one of us sees you, we will engage you in combat."

"Gladly." Arthur turned on his heel and exited the warehouse. The rest soon followed.

..

"Well, we just made ourselves enemies with the most powerful Mafia force in this city." Alfred seemed surprisingly cheerful.

"Da. I cannot wait to arrest them and break all of their bones." Ivan also seemed cheerful.

"Bloody wankers...mutter...arrest them all..." Arthur, however, was not cheerful. Or happy. Or satisfied. He was, however, pissed off.

"So, are we going to make the first move?"

"No. We shall wait until they go and rob a bank or an old lady or something, and then arrest them and break all of their bones." Ivan seemed very intent on shattering at least one femur during an encounter.

"I cannot wait to use them for target practice." Vash muttered, also _slightly_ pissed off.

"As much as I wish, we don't have the right to torture them. Or kill them. We do, however, have the right to break their bones - in self defense, of course." Arthur declared.

"Goody." Ivan's smile grew wider.

"Let's get back to the office and work on that jewelry store case."

"I have a report for you, sir."

'Excellent."

They all climbed into the black minivan and drove back to the bland office building where they worked.

...

"So, let me get this straight. _How_ many times did he get away?"

Arthur placed his head in his hands. Feli, Ludwig, and Kiku were doing a mission report, and failing.

"Uh...five? Six? We lost-a track."

"And did you catch him in the end?"

" _Ja,_ of course we did."

Ludwig looked slightly sheepish. His cheeks were a crimson red and he was rubbing his neck. Feli was completely oblivious, and Kiku looked undisturbed.

"What did you do with him?"

"Sent him to the county jail, and returned the stolen jewelry." Kiku muttered.

"Good. At least you didn't...take him out for ice cream or something like that."

"I a-wanted to, but Luddy wouldn't-a let me." Feli pouted, and Ludwig lightly elbowed him. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and scowled.

"Feliciano...if I had my way-"

"But he is useful in tracking, and infiltration." Ludwig hurriedly stepped in, anxious to protect his co-worker. Arthur sighed, and pulled up the job assignment spreadsheet on his laptop.

"Alright... I can't get rid of you, but I'm putting you with Tino and Berwald. Ludwig, Lovino will be replacing Feli on your team." Ludwig looked relieved that Feli wouldn't be fired, but then that relief was slowly changed to shock.

"But, you can't remove him from our team! Especially for his brother!" Ludwig looked slightly disgusted.

"I can, and I will. Tino and Berwald are working on an infiltration case right now, so Feli will fit right in. He's infiltrating a prison, impersonating a therapist, so he can get in touch with an associate. Lovino was too...violent...so he wouldn't fit the job. You'll do perfectly." Arthur replied with a smug look on his face. He sipped his tea (Earl Grey - only the best would do) and continued. "The prison is on an island in Italy, so we need somebody that can speak the language. He'll be there for a few months, so don't get your hopes up about seeing him soon." Ludwig looked sick. Feli looked oblivious. Kiku looked bored.

"B-but-"

"Lovino will join work with you tomorrow. You'll be working on a case with Roderich's team. A lot of...well, I think you'll enjoy it." Arthur interlaced his hands under his chin and smirked. Ludwig scowled at the british man.

"Fine."

"What was that?" Arthur made a big show of cupping his ear and leaning forward.

"Yes, sir." Ludwig snapped bitterly. Feli drooped. Kiku had no response.

"Now, leave my office, please. I have a lot of paperwork to attend to." Arthur turned around and shooed them away with a wave of his hand. As they left, he straightened his tie.

"Call me sadistic, but I'll do what I like." He muttered to himself.

...

"But, Luddy, I don't-a want to be on a team with-a Tino and Berwald!" Feli whined as he clung onto Ludwig's arm.

"Hush, Feli. He is the boss, and ve must do what he says."

"But _Luddy..."_

"Do you vant to make me madder zhen I already am?" Ludwig was looking away from Feli and his face was as red as a cherry.

"Luddy...are-a you crying?"

"N-no!"

"Why are-a you crying? It's only a re-assignment..." Feli's attitude about the whole thing switched when he saw how Ludwig was reacting to the change.

"Well, I won't be able to see you anymore, you'll be in Italy for six months!" Ludwig shouted.

"Well, you'll have Lovi! He's like me, but grumpy and he curses a lot!"

Ludwig smiled at Feli's half-hearted attempt to cheer him up. "I guess you are right." He wrapped his arm around Feli's shoulder.

"When you are done packing, come to my dorm. I have something to say to you." Feli looked around, confused, but Ludwig had already disappeared.

"L-Luddy..."

...

"Wasn't that a bit cruel?" Kiku was hanging out in Arthur's office, organizing some files.

"It was for the greater good. We can't have him around now, he's an easy target."

"But, Ludwig-"

"Sod Ludwig." Arthur spat. Kiku looked stunned.

"Arthur?"

"I'm fine. Ludwig is a valuable asset to our cause, but he'll get over this in a few days. Feli isn't _that_ important to him, right?"

"Uh..." Kiku looked out the window. Arthur looked up.

"He's in love with him, isn't he."

" _Hai."_

Arthur facepalmed. _That's_ why he was so shaken up.

"I've made a terrible mistake, haven't I."

" _Hai."_

"Ludwig is going to be depressed for the next couple of months, isn't he."

" _Hai."_

Arthur banged his head on the desk and pounded his fist next to it.

"CURSE THESE UNPREDICTABLE RELATIONSHIPS I DON'T KNOW ABOUT!"

"Calm down, sir."

"Thank you, Kiku."

"No problem, sir."

Arthur gripped his head in his hands.

"He'll just have to get over it. He can't let his personal life get in the way of his job."

"Yes, sir."

"I didn't know about this, it isn't my fault!"

"Yes, sir."

"He can't blame me for this, can he?"

"No, sir."

"I'm just blathering on now, aren't I."

"Yes, sir."

Arthur looked up at the Japanese man. "Please, leave me alone."

Kiku dropped the paperwork back in the folder and left his office. Arthur liked Kiku, he was always following orders without hesitation and almost never spoke unless spoken to.

"Argh. What am I going to do?"

He paced around his office for a while, before falling with a thud to the floor, head bowed.

"Bollocks."

He was about to stand up, but was interrupted by a _woosh_ and then a _thud._

"What the-"

An arrow was lodged in the door, fletching falling slowly to the floor. Arthur smirked.

 _Honestly? That's straight out of a sh*tty fanfiction._

A note was stuck to the point, and Arthur tore it off violently. In scrawly, loopy handwriting, there were three words.

 _Sorry about tonight~_

 ** _I am sorry, Germany! R and R please 3_**


	4. Chapter 4

"Do you think he deserved that note?" Luciano drawled, glancing at the bow tucked under Kuro's arm. Kuro nodded.

"After all, we always make the first move."

...

"Good news!"

Alfred burst into the office, panting. Ivan looked up from the pipe he was casually polishing.

"Da?"

"I found a dude who's willing to give us some info on Luciano! He lives in the old abandoned district!"

Ivan smiled eerily. "Good. Are any of the teams available?"

"I'll go check."

"Thank you, comrade Alfred."

"No problem! I'm the hero, after all, so this is second nature, helping people out and stuff."

"It is also your job."

"Well, that too."

...

"Are any of you dudes available for stakeout duty?"

"No, sorry." Francis replied. "We have that job with the Mayor, remember? Mattie is going to sneak in to grab some files, and we need backup. Meaning you."

"Boo."

"Us neither." Roderich commented. "Gilbert, Elizaveta and I are hacking into the FBI's database tomorrow. Can't make it."

"BOO."

"We can!" Lili piped up. "We can stakeout...wherever needs staking out!"

"Great, dudes! Go talk to the weird british dude."

"You mean boss?"

"Whatever you want to call 'im."

...

"Okay, so you're up for taking this job?"

"Yup!" Lili called out sweetly. One of the youngest in the business, second only to the Specialty Team, Lili looked innocent and pure, and was (for the most part), but her brother had trained her well. She could hit a target from 50 feet using her customized rifle.

"Are you sure? It could be pretty grating on a child like you."

"I can handle it! Me and big _bruder_ are the best in the business!"

Arthur ruffled her hair and spoke to Vash. "You, Lili, and Antonio are going to be staking out an old office building in the north district. There's supposed to be an informant of Luciano's working there. You and Lili can take him out when he gets there; Toni's a great interrogator."

"The north district? But it'll be freezing!"

"You've got to learn how to deal, Toni. You've been in freezing temperatures training before, no?"

"Y-yeah, but-"

"Then you'll be fine. Best of luck to you, Vash."

And so, Antonio ended up with the most boring job in the history of ever; staking out an old abandoned warehouse while Lili and Vash went and shot stuff.

In the freezing cold.

At night.

...

Antonio was bored. Stakeout duty was boring. His job was boring. Everything was boring. Well, except for his little Lovino. And tomatoes.

Speaking of tomatoes...

Toni thought he saw a bright flash of red to his right. He turned, and rubbed his eyes.

"Must be seeing things...qué?"

A bright red tomato was waiting, plump and juicy, at the corner of the building.

"What are you doing out here alone, my little tomate?" Toni said to the tomato, chuckling.

"Do you come from a large family?" He pondered picking up the tomato and wiping it off. Turning the corner, he saw another red object a bit further down. Whistling, he said to himself, "I thought so."

He walked up to the tomato, humming softly. Picking up the small red object, he glimpsed another a little ways away.

"Perfecto!" He ran to that one, carefully making sure not to drop the two others. He did this for a while, picking up the tomatoes, and everytime he found one, there was another one a couple miles down.

Finally, his arms full of bright red fruit, he came upon the final tomato.

"No more? Poor thing." A mocking voice called out. Antonio turned to see a whistling, blonde man holding a metal canister. His face was hidden by a brown gas mask.

"Catch, Toni." The man giggled, throwing the canister. Toni struggled to catch the metal object, dropping tomatoes everywhere. He stepped on one, slipped, and fell to the ground. The canister opened, releasing a green gas. Toni struggled to breathe, but soon fell back, head lolling on the pavement.

"Poor, poor thing." The blond murmured, adjusting the straps of the gas mask. He whistled, no easy feat when your mouth is guarded by leather. An unknown, stocky, figure, also wearing a gas mask, emerged from the green fog. He picked up the unconscious figure and slung him over his shoulder. Toni was still clutching a tomato. The figure went to remove it from his stiff, cold fingers, but the blonde stopped him.

"Don't throw that one away, he'll need it where he's going."

Both of them walked away, leaving only a slowly dissipating cloud of green smoke and seven brightly colored tomatoes, the red standing out like a warning beacon against the pea-green mist.

...

"Big _bruder?_ "

"Ja?"

"I didn't see Toni at the doorway. Did he leave?"

Vash froze. Toni would probably abandon his post, if he got too cold or saw a tomato or a turtle or some other bulls*** like that.

"Toni?"

No reply. Vash called again, louder.

"TONI?"

Silence. Vash ran to the doorway. No Antonio.

" _Schwester,_ go check the left side of the warehouse. I'll check the right side."

"Right!"

"No, left."

"No, I mean right, let's go."

Vash's cheeks went slightly pink. "Ja. Let's go."

After fifteen minutes of searching, Lili called out, "No sign of him!"

"Me neither." Vash cursed.

 _Verdammt, dass idiot und seine tendenz zu frieren so leicht!_

"Where could he have gone?"

"I don't know. He probably got too cold."

They sat in silence for a while, thinking about how they were going to explain this to Arthur. Out of nowhere, Lili stiffened.

"Lili?"

"I heard a clattering noise...over there."

Vash swung his rifle over his shoulder and aimed it at the spot where Lili had pointed. He nodded to Lili, who disappeared up to the rafters. When she was finally perching on a sturdy beam, Vash fired a warning shot into the dark. He heard a thunk and a startled yelp.

"Come out where I can see you!" Vash yelled.

A brown haired boy, only about twelve years of age, stumbled out of his hiding spot.

"Why are you here?"

"We're here with the HDA, you have the right to remain silent."

"You're not the police, you can't tell me what to do!"

"We have the same rights as the police, however we are an independent organization. Hands up."

The boy slowly raised his hands, muttering an obscene word under his breath.

" _Izdrāzt."_

Vash raised the gun higher. "How about we sit down and talk?"

"Nah, I have a life. Thanks for the offer."

Vash looked up and nodded to Lili, who fell from the rafter and landed in a crouch behind the boy. She grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back, smiling.

"Why don't you want to talk to us?"

The boy just stuttered. A pretty girl had just jumped out of the ceiling and landed nearly on him. Now she wanted to talk.

"I...I guess I could talk to you. Don't really have a choice now, do I?"

"No." Vash snarled.

"Don't be mean to him!" Lili yelped. She put one knee on his back until he was forced to sit.

"What's your name?"

"Ruslan." The boy snapped.

"Do you know the name ' _Luciano Vargas'_?"

The boy hesitated before answering, "N-no."

Vash held the gun to the boy's head. "Try again."

"Yes. Who doesn't?"

"Do you work for him?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because we are interested in you!" Lili chirped, beaming at the boy. She adjusted her grip before knocking him backwards into her lap. The boy stiffened, then surprisingly began to relax. Lili knew how to make people feel comfortable, that was kind of her job, but this was different.

"Yes. He's my boss. I'm in charge of torturing the prisoners." Lili gasped. "Why would you do that?"

"Boss's orders." Vash adjusted the gun.

"Why were you here?"

"Gathering materials. This place has a whole bunch of scrap metal." This was true. Vash had seen enough rusty pieces of junk here to put him off shiny things for a while.

"And, may I ask _why_ you need rusty metal?"

Ruslan grinned. "You don't wanna know." Lili made a face, and ruffled Ruslan's hair. "You're a naughty boy, aren't you Ruslan?" Lili whispered, and Ruslan blushed. "D-do you like bad boys?"

"Step away from my sister, _blödmann._ " Vash snapped. Lili tutted. "Don't be rude, _bruder."_ Rusland looked embarrassed, and Lili softly stroked his hair until he relaxed again

"That's all the info I have." Ruslan shifted his position slightly. "Now, let me go!"

"Oh, but don't you want to stay with us just a _little_ longer?" Lili helped Ruslan up and brushed off his uniform. Ruslan blushed.

"I...I guess I could stay with you a little longer. But only a little!" He added in his defense. Lili clapped her hands together.

"Yay!" She took hold of his hand and led him back to the car, skipping and chattering. Walking a few paces behind them, Vash thought to himself.

 _Good job, Shwester. I trust you to get some more information out of this boy. That is your job, is it not? We really do make a "Good Cop, Bad Cop" team._

He slid into the front seat of the car, took hold of the wheel, and drove back to HQ.


	5. Chapter 5: Mostly About Food

**Warning: Feels for no reason**

Alfred dipped his spoon into a bowl of onion soup, grimacing at the smell. Not because it was disgusting, quite the opposite.

"Who let Francis cook dinner again?"

"You, Alfred."

"Right." Alfred took a spoonful before he could say anything stupid. Francis flipped his hair back fabulously and smirked. "You know, I only cook for you because I don't want you eating those meals cooked by our 'boss' that are inedible and bland. You should thank me."

"I'm not going to thank you for making soup." Alfred said over a mouthful of cheese.

"Really?" Francis arched an eyebrow. "In that case, I'll just take this and you can go have that lump of charcoal Arthur calls Pot Roast." He reached for the bowl, but Arthur smacked his hand away.

"No, I like the soup." Matthew just smiled as the two nations bickered. The soup really was excellent, though he didn't want to blow Francis's ego up any more than it was already.

"I wanted burgers." Alfred said, his face practically in the bowl.

"Too bad, _Amerique._ " Francis scowled. "I think my cooking is preferable over those lumps of grease you enjoy eating."

"Hey, my burgers are amazing!"

"Sure, if you fancy having diabetes and a heart attack when you are older."

"We can have burgers tomorrow." Matthew reasoned. "Francis, you can find a burger recipe, right?"

"Probably. If the stupid American apologizes."

"Geez, I'm sorry, brah. NOW MAKE BURGERS PLEASE?" The American's eyes sparkled. Francis sighed, his head in the palm of his hand.

" _Vous ne changerez jamais, amérique."_

"Does that translate to 'I will make burgers for the amazing hero?" Alfred cocked his head, and Francis groaned.

"Sure. Absolutely."

"ALRIGHT!" Alfred threw his hands in the air and grinned a thousand megawatt smile. Matthew smiled too. He had understood what Francis had said, and it was not what Alfred thought. But he liked seeing his brother happy.

"We have a job tomorrow. Do you think you can make it, Alfred?"

"Sure, bro! Just gotta get my new assignment from Arthur about the weird Mafia dudes, then I'm all yours!"

"Good, 'cause we need somebody with...charisma."

"Am I not charismatic enough for you, _Mathieu?"_ Francis swished his cape and summoned some magical headsparkles. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"A different kind of charismatic. A friendly kind, not one that wants to get in everyone's pants." Francis tried to look offended, though he was clearly overselling it.

"You wound me, _ma cherie!_ I am fabulous enough! Besides..." He swooshed to Matthew's side and produced a red rose from who-knows-where.

"...it is not my fault that the young ladies flock to me, hmm?" Matthew blushed. "Get away from him, you perverted Frenchman." Alfred smacked him upside the head. Francis scowled. "No need for violence, _Amerique."_

"There is a need for violence if you are flirting with my baby brother."

"I-I'm not your baby brother."

"Of course you aren't, _Mathieu."_ Francis tried to soothe the young boy, but was smacked away by Alfred.

"Don't touch him."

While the two bickered, Matthew checked his watch.

"Maple! We have a meeting in three minutes!"

"Which room?"

"Thirteen."

"But that's halfway across the building!"

The three leaped to their feet and charged through the door, leaving the unwashed bowls behind.

...

"Where were you?" Arthur scowled at the panting brothers and the unaffected Frenchman.

"We were...taking a...break in our...office..." Alfred choked out, between heavy breaths.

"Next time, try to leave a bit earlier."

"It is called being fashionably late. Better a few minutes late and dressed amazingly, then to be on time and dressed like...well, _you."_ Francis looked at the Brit's green suit in disgust.

"My clothing is fine, thank you."

"Hmm, if you fancy looking like a stuffy uptight old man, which you are."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WEARING A CAPE!" Arthur screeched. Then he collected himself, knowing that he was, in fact, the boss of this fool.

" _Ahem,_ if you would take your seats." Arthur scowled at the blonde man, who paid no attention and slid into a seat next to Gilbert, who started discussing how _awesome_ of a burn that was on the _idiot who calls himself our boss but is so unawesome he couldn't run a preschool._ Alfred sat next to Kiku, who smiled at the energetic man. Matthew just took a seat next to Ludwig, who seemed oddly depressed.

"What's wrong, eh?" Ludwig turned his head to face the Canadian, and smiled faintly.

"Oh. Nothing, nothing, just a little sad."

"Why?" Matthew put one arm around the German, which is easier said than done.

"Feliciano has been reassigned to go to Italy. He won't be back for six months." Ludwig drooped. Matthew remembered that Ludwig held a candle for the bubbly italian, and realized how much of a blow this was.

"I'm sorry." Ludwig looked grateful. "You have no need to be sorry. It isn't that important."

"Yes, it is. You had feelings for Feli, didn't you?" This came out in a whisper, and Ludwig's cheeks flushed.

"J-ja. Was it that obvious?" Matthew shook his head hurriedly.

" _AHEM._ If some people would stop gossiping, we could get on with the meeting." Arthur looked pissed, and was staring, not at Matthew and Ludwig, but at Elizaveta and Kiku, who pulled apart from whispering in each other's ear and blushed.

"So, we have recently come to the conclusion that there is a powerful mafia force in the city. We must find the root of this force and pull it up before it infects our entire district."

"I think you're using two different metaphors here, O Eyebrowed One." Alfred smirked. Arthur furrowed afore-mentioned eyebrows and gritted his teeth.

"In case you have forgotten, Jones, I am your boss. Now sit your bloody ass down and shut up."

"I'm already sitting." Alfred put his feet up on the table. "Did you forget, or is it simply muscle memory?"

"Wanker." Arthur growled, then cleared his throat. "I am imploring all of you to help us exterminate these idiots before they wipe all of us out."

"What's in it for us? We all have jobs to do besides this one, and we can't exactly go out of our way to help you. This is your job, not ours." Lovino yawned, and leaned back in his chair.

That did it. Arthur had finally had enough. He stormed towards Lovino and slammed his hands down on the desk where he was sitting. He leaned towards his face, and hissed, "Besides it being your bloody _job,_ they've got your little Toni." Lovino's jaw went slack, his face blanching. " _Che cosa? Quei bastardi idiote meglio restituiscono la mia Antonio prima che io li smack rialzo la testa_!" Arthur grinned cooly. "All stubborn donkeys need a carrot to get them moving." " _Mi hai chiamato stupido?"_ Arthur didn't understand Italian, so he replied with a non-committal, "You speak Italian when you're flustered. Calm yourself." Lovino settled back into his seat, slowly growing red as the tomatoes that had led Toni to his downfall.

Of course, none of them knew that yet. Not even Arthur.

"Um, question?" Kiku's hand was raised. "Yes, Honda?" "I was wondering if one of the members of this Mafia shares my last name?" "Why, yes. He was one of the ones to invite us to our little meeting." Kiku mumbled something under his breath. It sounded vaguely like " _Baka."_

"What was that?" "Hmm? Oh, nothing." Arthur turned back to the board. "So, do we have any volunteers willing to take time out of their schedules to help us with this? If not now, then most certainly later." About a dozen hands shot up. Arthur dutifully recorded each name on the board in his loopy, scrawling handwriting.

 _Alfred_

 _Francis_

 _Gilbert_

 _Kiku_

 _Ludwig_

 _Lovino_

 _Roderich_

 _Vash_

 _Lili_

 _Elizaveta_

 _Lukas_

 _Mathias_

Arthur clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Excellent. We'll get started as soon as we've all had lunch."

The meeting room was silent. Arthur turned around to see twenty empty seats. Sighing, he mumbled, "Not again..."

...

Toni blinked his eyes groggily. " _Donde estoy?_ I hope I'm not anywhere too scary..."

"As to where you are, _prietenul meu_ , I'm not sure you'd want to know." A thick, Romanian accented voice rang out from the shadows. It was deep and melodious, and it dripped with honey-sweet sarcasm.

"Tell me!" Toni scrambled to his feet, glaring at where the voice hid. He rushed forward, but slammed into a glass wall. He moved his palms up and down the smooth surface and grimaced.

"You're at HQ, _prietenul_ , our lair, our base. And we can't have you getting out."

Toni screamed as he felt cold hands clutch his neck and force it upwards, clammy palms meeting cold skin.

"Mmm. Smells like tomatoes." Toni stuttered at the sudden, almost flirtatious attack.

"W-who are you?"

"Who am I? I, _prietenul,_ am Vasile." There was a skittering sensation up Toni's neck, and he shuddered.

"A-are you a vampire?"

"Of course not, vampires don't exist. I merely like the subtle...flavor of blood."

Vasile moved his fingers up and down the Spaniard's neck, long nimble digits tracing patterns on the tanned skin.

"So pure, so unmarked. I can feel your life force...it's pulsing."

Antonio grimaced as he felt a small nibble on the flesh at the side if his neck.

"I'm sure I'll get a bite in..or two."

Toni was feeling slightly uncomfortable, but he couldn't move. Vasile's claws held him in place; his nails drew a small bead of blood. Vasile swept it up in one nimble motion and licked his finger.

"Delicious."

The fingers had moved from his neck to his jawline, cold cheek pressed against his own.

"You know..."

Toni could feel hot breath against his ear.

"...Your blood is slightly...spicy."

Sharp fingernails drummed against his cheek, wrapping around his shoulders.

"Like medium salsa... But... A little more tangy."

Antonio wanted to scream. The man was slowly scraping one pointed incisor against his ear.

"Your blood is delicious, Antonio."

He was suddenly released, cheek that was once wrapped with cold fingers meeting hard concrete. He heard a door click open, then shut.

"I can only hope to taste more of it."

...

"What do you fancy having for lunch?"

Lili pulled out a chair for the shaking boy. Vash had gone to file a report about their earlier encounter, leaving the two of them alone. Ruslan shook just thinking about the words that Vash had snarled into his ear just before he left.

 _Make a move on my sister, and I'll show you just how accurately I can shoot - even from fifty meters away._

Ruslan swallowed, then replied, "Whatever you can cook." Lili smiled. "Are grilled cheese sandwiches okay?"

"Y-yeah, I guess." Ruslan leaned back in his chair and tried to look bored. He was clearly failing. "Ruslan? Do you need an aspirin?" "No, why?" "You look like you have a headache." Ruslan's cheeks flushed a light rose color and Lili giggled, setting out for pieces of bread. She walked to the small fridge (that every break room had) and swung open the door, letting out a gust of cold air.

"Darn! We're out of cheese!" She turned to Ruslan. "Would peanut butter be okay?" "S-sure." Ruslan felt as if it had been forever since he had had a peanut butter sandwich. He watched as she spread the thick paste onto the bread, stuck the two slices together, and (what?) placed it on the grill. "Y-you're grilling them?!" Lili turned towards him, a small smile on his face. "Yeah. You'll like it." Ruslan wasn't so sure, but decided to just go with it. While the bread was toasting, Lili tried to probe a little deeper into the boy's mind, with questions such as where his parents were, where he lived, if he was happy working for Luciano. No answers, except for the last.

"Not very much. But he treats me well, and it's good pay. Also, torture is pretty fun. You get to see the crimson red running down their faces, like a beautiful red-" He stopped when he saw the look on Lili's face. He had seen that look before.

It was disgust.

"S-sorry." He looked at his shoes awkwardly. Lili nodded, and went back to making sure the bread didn't burn.

"H-here." She murmured, sliding the sandwich onto a plate and handing it to the boy. Ruslan took a small bite. The peanut butter was delightfully melty and gooey, and it stuck to the roof of his mouth as he chewed. It was...delicious. And nostalgic. The peanutty sandwich and toasted bread brought a feeling upon him he wasn't familiar with. He tried to grasp it, but it slid out of his fingers when he tried to place it. After a few more tentative bites, it came crashing down on him like a two story house.

Comfort.

Lili smiled at the small boy. "It's good, isn't it? I figured it out when Vash accidentally put one of my sandwiches in the microwave. It wasn't as good as this method, though." She started looking at him strangely. "R-Ruslan?"

 _Oh. I'm crying, aren't I?_

Lili leaned over the poor boy and hugged him. He made no move to push her away, and they stood like that for a few minutes. Ruslan could feel the hot tears running down his cheeks, but he made no sound.

"LILI? WHAT ARE YOU DOING DO I NEED TO SHOOT HIM OH MY GOD WHAT DID I TELL YOU I SHOULD HAVE NEVER LEFT YOU ALONE THAT LITTLE-"

" _Bruder!"_ Lili turned to Vash sharply and gave him a look that said _If you don't f*** off right now, I will shoot your face in._ Since Vash was usually the one giving the looks, he wasn't used to this, but he shut up and left the room.

"It'll be okay, Ruslan." Lili hugged him tighter, feeling the boy's tense muscles under his skin.

"It'll be okay."

 **Grazie to all the people with me so far! I would like to especially thank A Broken Imagi-NATION for sticking with/putting up with me this whole time :)**


	6. Chapter 6

...

Luciano slowly watched as Lutz typed a long stream of incomprehensible code onto the computer's monitor.

"So, what are we investigating again?"

"I am trying to find some sort of website or informant relating to the Hetalia Detective Agency. They should have a company website somewhere on the web."

"Good idea."

Several minutes passed, with no action or cool action movie website hacking moves.

"Did you find one?"

"Not yet."

"How about now?"

"No."

Luciano pounded his fist on the table and looked at Lutz suspiciously. "Are you reading-"

"N-no." Lutz quickly closed out of the tab he was in. Luciano smacked the back of his head.

" _Idiota._ I should place a parental lock on these computers."

Lutz shook his head wildly. "P-please no."

"Then do your job." Luciano hissed. Lutz avoided his gaze as he tapped wildly on the keyboard. Luciano draped one arm around his shoulders and moved his face closer, gloved fingers tracing the scar on his cheek.

"I remember the day I gave you this scar, Lutzy." Lutz winced at the pet name. "J-ja, me too." Luciano sighed at the memory. "You were being a little cheating bastard, so I took that knife of yours and gave you this reminder that you belong to _me!"_

Luciano rested his head on Lutz's shoulder, magenta eyes boring into the computer screen. "You're not still seeing Kuro, are you?" Lutz shook his head hurriedly. "Nein. Not anymore." Luciano smiled, his white teeth glinting wickedly in the low light. "Good. Nobody gets to have you but me." He purred. Lutz tried to shake the Italian off of his shoulder, but Luciano just held on to his arm, digging his nails into his sleeves. Eventually Lutz gave up and just let the Italian do what he pleased.

"I found something." Luciano sat up, suddenly interested. "Hmm?"

"HDA Tech. Apparently it's a computer repair company." Lutz moused over the link and clicked it. A bunch of pictures popped up detailing the proper repair of laptops and how to protect your phone screen from cracking. After clicking all the tabs obsessively, Lutz sighed in frustration.

"I guess I was wrong." Luciano suddenly squinted his eyes and peered closer to the right corner of the computer screen.

"Is that... a tomato?"

Lutz zoomed in to 500%. Sure enough, there was a small tomato in the corner. Lutz clicked it, and the website reloaded into the HDA's company website. Luciano grinned, and pulled the small throwing knife out of his pocket.

"Found you~!" He cooed.

...

"Tell me, why did the link to our website have to be a tomato?"

Arthur took his head in his hands. Ivan just shrugged. "Antonio was on website design."

"Ah."

The phone started ringing. Ivan picked up the phone and said amiably, "Hello, Hetalia Detective Agency, how can we help you?"

" _Cut the pleasantries, Ivan Braginski."_

"Oh, hello Luciano. How can we help you?" Ivan said cheerfully.

" _I seem to notice that one of your comrades is missing?"_

"Da, comrade Toni is missing."

" _Do you know who has him?"_

"Probably you."

" _Right. If you wish to get him back, come to Warehouse 28 tonight."_

"You are very big on cliches, aren't you Luciano?"

" _Si. Until tonight."_

The line went dead. Ivan slammed down the phone, an evil aura beginning to flicker. Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow.

"Well?"

" _Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol..."_

"I see."

"We can't send ourselves. We could be killed!"

"Da, we need somebody expendable."

Arthur thought for a few minutes, before pressing the intercom button and muttering, "Can Mister Francis Bonnefoy make his way to the Vice President's office, please?"

 **Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I have been updating my other stories and haven't really had the time...*embarrassed noises***


	7. Chapter 7

Francis fidgeted with the small cape he wore around his shoulders.

"Oh, tough luck, Franny." Alfred smiled. "Looks like your new re-assignment is gonna be part of that mafia case."

"Oh, joy." Francis scoffed. "Can't wait to have my head blown off by some trigger-happy Mafia maniac."

"Looks like it!" Alfred thumped him on the back. "Good luck!"

As Francis left the break room, a small voice stuttered a hasty goodbye.

"G-good luck..."

...

"Hello, Francis. Long time no see." Arthur smiled a cold smile, and extended his hand in greeting. Francis ignored the gesture and spat out, "W-what dangerous assignment do you have me taking on this time?"

"Mm, you must travel to Warehouse No. 28, in the South District. Apparently Toni is being held captive there."

Francis's face turned cherry red. "T-toni? _Mon dieu._ "

"You see our predicament. Are you willing to take on the assignment?"

"Yes. I must save my partner."

"Good. You leave immediately after gathering some supplies."

...

"P-please, somebody... help me." Toni whimpered as he attempted to pull his flimsy jacket tighter around his shoulders.

"Why would anybody want to help you? You have no allies, nobody likes _you._ You're a nobody."

The chilling voice. Vasile's voice. It was back.

"I-I have friends. I do!" Antonio testified helplessly. He curled himself into a ball and started shivering, his teeth chattering.

"Really? Like Francis? Or Gilbert? Or..."

Antonio could see Vasile's face now in the dim light, and it was smirking.

"Your little Lovino?"

"You leave my Lovi alone!" Antonio shrieked, throwing himself to the ground. Vasile simply chuckled. "Temper, temper, Toni."

The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Toni thought about making a run for it, but he was too weak to move. He stood up shakily, legs almost buckling from the stress and loss of energy.

A cold hand grabbed his neck thrust it backwards. Vasile stared down at him, smirking.

"Mm, it's lunchtime."

Antonio could feel Vasile's two pointy canines sinking into the soft flesh at the side of his neck, penetrating the skin and drawing bled. Antonio could only whimper as the man drank, drawing out the red milk and quenching his thirst.

"Aaaah, the feeling of bloodlust." Vasile murmured into Toni's ear, causing the Spaniard to tense up.

After a few minutes, which felt like eternity, Vasile released the poor victim, who fell in a heap on the floor, quivering.

"There there, _copil,_ if all goes well, you may go home tonight." Vasile said, turning back to look at the lump of quivering flesh on the concrete.

The lock clicked.

...

Francis loitered on the curb, waiting for the ride that would come to drive him to Warehouse 28, wherever that was. It was really cold out tonight, and Francis was aching to be back home with Arthur, in front of a roaring fire, with a glass of wine...wait, hold up, did he just say...with Arthur? That idiotic old man that bossed him around all the time?

 _No, Francis, you must be joking._

He shook his head a few times to clear his head, then sat down on the pavement, shivering. That cape did not keep out the chill of the evening very well, but it looked fabulous, so Francis would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

The loud blaring of a car horn jolted him out of his stupor. Headlights flashed, and he had to blink a few times to clear the spots from his vision.

" _Hein? Pourquoi devez-vous briller cette lumière dans mon visage?_ "

"Calm your jets, Francy-pants." The grinning face of Alfred F. Jones stared at Francis from behind the wheel of an armoured van.

"A-Alfred?"

"Yup, I'm your ride! Hop in, dude!" Alfred patted the passenger's seat, and Francis slid the door open, grumbling to himself.

"So, Warehouse 28, right? Cool, we're totally like spies together and stuff!" Alfred chuckled, rolling up the windows. Francis tried to smile back, tried to match the happy enthusiasm of the blond. " _O-oui,_ spies and stuff..."

They chatted aimlessly for a while, before pulling up at an old abandoned storage house. The paint, once a bright silver, was now grey with age, and the great door was cracked and peeling.

"Well, this'll be awesome!" Alfred grabbed two pistols out from the backseat of the van and handed one to Francis, who slipped into his pocket.

Slamming the door of the van, resulting in a loud _thwack_ piercing the silence of the evening, Alfred walked jauntily to the door of the warehouse, Francis close behind.

"Hey, evil Mafia dudes? We've come to collect Toni!" Alfred shouted into the gloom of the warehouse, before charging in.

"I am sensing a trend in meeting in warehouses." Francis muttered to himself as he walked into the large building.

They stood there for a few minutes, drinking it all in, before they heard their first noise.

" _You are not Ivan and Arthur."_

Alfred cocked his head, confused.

"Why would we need to be? We're just here to collect Toni!"

" _You do not understand. We needed Arthur and Ivan. Everything is ruined!"_

Francis was about to interject, when he felt something graze the back of his neck, and the floor was so close all of a sudden, and everything went black.

 **Yay! Cliffhanger-thing! I am going to start putting up the translations, because some people got confused.**

 **Copil = Baby**

 **"** ** _Hein? Pourquoi devez-vous briller cette lumière dans mon visage?_** **"** **= "Huh? Why are you shining those lights in my eyes?"**


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred woke up in a cold sweat.

"What... where...?"

He rubbed his head groggily.

"What happened?"

...

" _Bonjour,_ Francis Bonnefoy." A mocking voice catcalled from the darkness. Francis stood up shakily and rubbed the back of his head with a quivering hand.

"W-where am I?" He whispered, feeling the lump at the back of his head.

"Is that what they all say?" The voice turned pouty. "How boring."

"I'll have you know that I am fabulous. Boring is simply not in my vocabulary." Francis raised his chin and tried to look intimidating.

"Is it now?" Francis felt cold hands running down his sides. He yelped.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked this kind of attention." The voice chuckled as it traced its bony fingers down Francis's cheekbones.

"G-get away from me!" Francis squealed, pulling away. The hands looped themselves around his neck and pulled them close to a muscled torso.

"Nah-ah-ah, no running away now." Francis could feel fingers running through his hair, delving into the thick tresses like five snakes. Francis shuddered.

"Hmm, I wonder how it would feel to see these beautiful blonde locks littering the floor." The voice mused, and Francis paled.

"You wouldn't dare."

"I most certainly would, and will." The fingers released him, flinging him to the ground.

"Until next time, Francis Bonnefoy." The voice sang, and Francis swore he heard the unmistakable _schick_ of a pair of blades.

"That little..." Francis let loose a stream of French curse words.

" _Que sournois petit pervers manipulateur!"_

"Ah, ah, ah, no potty mouth here." The voice echoed back. Francis swore mentally.

 _Oh, little Toni, where are you?_

 _..._

Lovi was pacing back and forth along his office, with Ludwig watching him intently.

"F**king bastards, taking Antonio like that, they're evil little b**ches, I want to smack them in the f**king-"

" _Ahem._ " Ludwig coughed into his palm, face tinged pink from listening to the angry italian. "You should focus more on finding him then on getting your revenge, or something idiotic like that." Lovino had to restrain himself from turning around and slapping the bastard. "But revenge is obviously the best option! We've got to show them that they don't mess with the Hetalia Detective Agency!" Ludwig clenched his teeth, trying to control his anger. "Yes, but we have to focus on getting _all_ of them back sneakily, without any fuss." "Don't talk to me about loss, you emotionless potato! You don't seem to feel anything, you're always so weird and stoic! I doubt you would even care if your _precious little Feli_ had to leave! I doubt you would even feel it!"

Ludwig lost it.

"I do know how it feels, because HE DID!"

Lovino jumped back, startled. "W-what?"

"Feli had to leave on an important mission to Italy for six months! To interrogate some old informer to Luciano! I miss him terribly!" Ludwig broke down, head in his hands. Lovino didn't know what to expect, the german was normally so in control of his emotions.

"I-I didn't-"

"Leave me alone! Just...go away!" Ludwig glared at the italian, who ran out the door, slamming it shut.

He sat alone for a few minutes, tears making tracks down his cheekbones. Finally, he picked up his mobile phone, pulled up FaceTime, and punched in Feli's number.

...

Feli smiled, opening the door to the poor man's cell. He glared up at him, eye-patch covering the malicious glare in his other eye.

"Ciao, Mr. Thurston! I'm your new therapist, Mr. Vargas, but you can call me Feliciano! Let's get to know each other, shall we?"

...

The phone rang for a few minutes, buzzing away on Ludwig's lap, before it eventually went to voicemail.

" _Ciao! Feliciano Vargas here! I'm not here at the moment, so please leave me a message and I'll get back to you later! Unless I'm making or eating pasta, in which case I'll probably get back to you tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that-"_

Ludwig switched off the receiver and sighed. He probably didn't want to talk to him anyway. Not after how he had confessed... no, he probably hated him now.

...

Feli smiled warmly at the scowling man, who merely grunted in response.

"How about we introduce ourselves? I'm Feliciano, but you can call me..."

He trailed off as he thought of his nickname, _the_ nickname.

"Um, I guess you could call me Feli!" His smile shrank just the tiniest bit. "A lot of people back home call me Feli. But not to be a buzzkill or anything! Anyway, I like pizza, and pasta, and drawing!"

Another grunt. Feli tried to probe a tiniest bit deeper.

"What do you like to do?"

No response. Thurston simply rolled over on his bed and faced the wall. Italy sighed.

"Well, I see we won't be getting anywhere today. I'll come check in with you tomorrow, okay? _Ciao!"_

Feli left the room, pulling the door closed. He felt tears spring to his eyes, and he pushed them back, not wanting the small drops to spill over on his clipboard.

 _I can't give up now, I have to be strong! Strong for Luddy, yes, I have to be strong...be strong for...for Luddy..._

Feli ran to the staff's quarters, locking the door behind him. As soon as he made it to the bed, he burst into tears.


End file.
